Skating Stories
by Luv2FigureSkate8
Summary: These stories are just a couple that I wrote about figure skating. None of the stories have characters that are linked together. I would have put these under Ice Princess, but I couldn't find that category. I wrote these for a school project.
1. Dare You To Be

Dare You To Be

Skating. It was something I lived for, breathed for. I longed for it everyday, still do… but I will never get to feel the ripping of my edge on the ice, the cold, brisk air on my face as I step onto the ice for an early morning practice session, and the joy of winning or the sorrow of losing. I would never feel that again. I hugged my stuffed bear as I lay in the hospital bed. My life was over. Done… how could I live when I couldn't skate.

It had happened so fast, most of it a blur. The day started out like every other day. I was on my way up to the rink for my practice sessions. It had been snowing the night before, so it was a little slick out, but, as usual I minded what my parents told me, and drove a little slower than what the speed limit was. As I was driving on the highway the car in front of me hit an ice patch, swerved, and hit the side of my car. All I remember was feeling the impact of the cars hitting each other then everything went black.

Later, I ended up waking up in a critical care room in the hospital. The doctors told me that the car had ended up rolling three times, and even though my seatbelt had held, my back had been broken just above my hips. I would never walk again. The instant those words hit my ears, I started to cry. They said that there was a slight chance that I would walk again, but the chance of it was extremely rare. I told them to leave; I didn't want to see anyone.

For days my family, the doctors, and physical therapists tried to cheer me up, try to prepare me for a life in a wheelchair. I couldn't accept that, not when I had been a skater who had been competing in the Junior Olympics. This couldn't be it. But who was I kidding; my life was over, what else did I have to live for?

Some of my friends from skating stopped by but I told my parents to send them away. They couldn't see me like this. No, no one I knew, especially from skating, could ever see me like this. They just couldn't. I didn't want to see the pity in their eyes for me.

After a couple of days, the doctors started me on physical therapy. But I just wasn't motivated.

I would yell at the therapist, "Why does it matter? It's not like I'll ever walk again anyway!"

I just went through the motions, when the therapist wanted me too. I gave up countless times without even trying. What was the point? I would never skate, or walk again. I would never dance at prom, or take hikes through the woods with my dad. I slipped into a state of depression. But one day, a friend of mine, who was also a skater, walked into my hospital room, even though I had told him to leave.

"Go away, Danny!" I growled, trying to suppress my anger, "I don't want you to see me like this!"

"I know you don't want me to, Peyton." he Danny argued passionately back at me, "But you have to get over this, you're stronger than this. I know you are! I dare you to be what you were! I dare you to have the strength to pull yourself through this!"

I looked down at my sheets on the hospital bed, playing with an invisible stain, and then let my graze return to is intensely gazing eyes with tears in my eyes. "But how?"

"You'll see." He said with a smile, "But you have to be strong. Can you do that? Can you be the strong person that you were before this accident?"

"I think so." I said in a small voice. I felt tears come to my eyes, but when he gave me that soft smile, I just had to smile back.

Over the next year, I continued going to physical therapy, and I worked hard. Danny came to visit me almost every day, and he helped with my exercises. Every day I grew a little stronger. Eventually I let my friends come to visit me, and I was more and more cheerful. I still missed skating, tear up when I see it on TV, but I know it's not the end of life. There was so much more to live for.

As time went by, it turned out that the slight chance that I would be able to walk again was going to happen. Slowly, almost agonizingly slow, movement and feeling returned to the lower half of my body. Each day I am able to go one step further.

After a while I returned home, and even though I used a wheelchair, that didn't stop me from walking around the house for as long as I could. I was determined to be able to walk again no matter what.

When more months had passed, I was walking, though not always steadily, but still walking. I had never accomplished something so big. I had never felt so proud of myself. I did it. A couple days after I had stopped using my wheelchair Danny came over again. He smiled at me and immediately walked into my room and opened my closet door.

"Danny, what are you doing?" I asked as I watched him rummage around in my closet. Silently, he pulled out my figure skates, walked back, and handed them to me. He then took my free hand and led me out the door to the car. I didn't ask questions, I knew where we were going. I uncomfortably sat in the passenger seat of the car. The ride was silent the whole way to the ice rink. We walked into the rink. The sheet of ice was empty.

Danny sat me down on a bench, pointed to my skates, and said, "Put them on."

"But Danny…" I stuttered.

"Just put them on." He replied cutting me off.

I sat and put on my skates. He sat down next to me and put his own on at the same time. Danny then took my hand, leading me to the ice.

"I…I can't do this." I said looking at him with worried eyes.

"Yes, you can." He replied with his classic smile, "I'll be beside you the whole time."

We stepped onto the ice together. Slowly we started skating laps around the rink. For the first time in over a year, I felt the ripping of my edge on the ice, the cold, brisk, air hitting my face as we moved, and I felt the pure joy of accomplishing something that was better than any gold medal. I was skating. Something I thought I would never do again. I had accepted the dare Danny had given me, and I had won. A smile broke out on my face. Stopping, Danny turned me towards him, and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. As I smiled at him, with all the joy in my heart, he smiled back and whispered softly to me,

"Welcome home."


	2. Skating

"_Skating- It's the feeling you get at the end of a hard practice when you pushed yourself to the limit, the way the ice feels when you get back on it after a few weeks off. It's a part of your identity, something you love and something you hate. A bond that no one else really understands, but that's okay, because every time you get out on the ice it isn't just you, it's all the friends and coaches over the years, all the practices, all the sweat, all the pain, all the tears, all the memories, all the laughter, all the 'off' competitions, all the lifetime bests, and all the road trips. As individual as it may seem, skating is really a team sport, and even still, it's more than just a sport. It's a way of life." _

_(Anonymous.)_

I used to love it. Skating that is. It was something I longed to do everyday. Skating came naturally to me. That made me like it even more. Skating was all about fun for me. Sure I loved winning, and the attention that came with it, but the best thing about skating was that it made me forget about life's aches and disappointments. Then one day my mother heard of a boy was looking for a pair skating partner. She talked me into trying out, and lo and behold the next thing I knew, I was a pair skater with my current best friend Davis Andrews. We hit it off immediately. He made skating even better. I loved it, and I foolishly believed that nothing could change that.

Then our old coach decided to quit and we had to find a replacement that was top quality. Figure skating coaches are rare so we were excited to be taken on by world renowned Devon Mitchells. His interpretation of training was that it was work, not a means of having fun. I have seen a lot of tough coaches through out the years, and he was the toughest of them all. And he was mine. All he did was criticize and scream. He constantly told me and Davis that our skating was second rate. Praise was something that was never heard.

"That was terrible! Go do it another ten times!" Devon would yell.

"But Coach, that was the best we've ever done that!" I would reply disbelievingly.

"Yeah!" Davis chipped in, "We've never done it that good!"

"Not good enough! Don't you want to be the best?" He would yell back so intensely that the veins in his neck popped up, "Well you're not! So do it ten more times!"

Eventually, skating became something to dread. I was scared to face our new coach. I hated getting yelled at. I watched my self confidence slowly spiral down the drain; no matter how hard I tried hanging onto my hopes and dreams.

"Don't worry, Nadine. It will be better tomorrow." Davis would propose hopefully.

It never was. Our skating began to suffer. I would postpone going to the rink as much as I could. I started to get sick. I would get stomachaches all the time. I couldn't focus during school. I dreaded the mere mention of skating.

I hadn't told my parents how this was affecting me or my skating. They thought everything was great. After all Devon Mitchells was the best coach there was. At least that's what I was told.

My anxiety became so bad I started to contemplate skipping my sessions. I couldn't stand being there. I didn't care that I was letting others down. I hated skating now. Devon had taken the fun out of it. What was the point? The only reason he coached us was to get us to "Worlds" and the Olympics. He only cared about winning. And the medal couldn't be silver or bronze…it had to be gold.

One day it got so bad I decided to skip skating. So I'd miss a session or two. Would that really be a big deal? I mean I know that the Junior Nationals Competition was in a month, but I needed a break. I couldn't deal with this anymore.

I threw my skating bag over my shoulder and headed in the direction of the rink. My heart raced as I stopped in front of the sliding glass doors. Should I go in? Should I skip today? Everything stopped moving around me. It felt like a year was passing me by, but my watch's seconds hand moved at an agonizingly slow rate. I tried to take a step forward.

I couldn't…

I looked through the doors and saw Davis. He wasn't looking at me but he was close to the front doors. I made up my mind. Turning I quickly walked past the glass doors before Davis could catch sight of me. My skate bag felt heavier and heavier as I stepped farther away from the rink. I knew my coach would be angry at my absence but Davis would be even angrier…and disappointed in me as a friend. I sat down at a little café a couple of blocks away from the rink. It was one Davis and I had gone to countless times before. I ordered a vanilla latte and contemplated what I was going to do about skating. I could tell my parents, but they though Devon was wonderful. Davis already knew what was going on, but his eternal optimism allowed him to brush off Devon's abuse. He told me to stop taking Devon's words so personally.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't hear the footsteps that came up behind me and stopped. I almost screamed as Davis' angry voice spoke up behind me.

"Where the hell were you?!"

"I…uh…well…" I stammered, trying to come up with a logical excuse for skipping practice.

"Junior Nationals are in a month! You don't show up at practice so I figure maybe your sick. So I call your parents. They have no clue where you are! I go out looking for you and here you are! Just hanging around! Drinking coffee! You haven't been skating well lately! You need to practice! What were you thinking?!" Davis yelled. He was sounding just like our coach.

That was when I snapped. How dare he think that our skating bad was my entire fault. It was that stupid coach's. "Shut up! I can't stand it anymore! I can't stand him or you anymore! He's always criticizing and you're always defending him and saying it will get better. Well, guess what! It's not going to get better! It never will! So you know what? I quit! That's right! You can skate the pairs competition by yourself or find someone else!"

I had never been so angry and I had never been in such a heated argument with Davis before. I turned around to walk away and he grabbed my arm. Before I even realized what I was doing I whipped around and slapped the side of his face.

Time froze. Oh my God. What did I just do? He stared at me with pain in his eyes. I knew I had caused that pain… and it wasn't from me hitting him. His hand slipped from my arm.

"Davis…I am so sorry…I…it was an accident." Everything came out in a rush.

"No…just don't…" he said looking at me. "We're done."

And with that he turned and left. Tears trailed down my face as I watched him walk away. I ran home as fast as my legs could carry me. No! No! No! Davis was my best friend. I couldn't lose him over this. I cried myself to sleep trying to think of a way to make this better.

I went to skating the next day to try and make it up to him. He wouldn't talk to me or come near me at all.

"Look I don't care what's going on between the two of you…Just get to work!" Devon yelled.

So we started to skate. I knew he was still really angry. But I still tried to talk to him while we were working on our moves.

"Davis…I really am sorry…I was just so stressed." I stuttered through an apology. "I never meant to hurt you."

I wasn't paying attention and as we were going into a lift my hands slipped. I felt myself falling. My head hitting the ice. Everything went black.

"Oh thank God!" I heard Davis' voice say with obvious relief as my eyes fluttered open. He was the first thing I saw. He smiled and placed a kiss on my lips. "We thought you were really hurt."

I sat up slowly and hugged him. "I'm so sorry." I whispered.

"I know."

Devon walked up behind Davis. "Here put this on your head." He said handing me an ice pack. "Davis told me how my coaching was effecting you. Maybe that's true. I'll try to be more supportive from now on, but I still expect you to work your butts off. You're too good to let this opportunity slip away."

I smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Well I think you both deserve a break." Devon said with a smile. "How about some coffee? Davis tells me that you know a good little coffee shop in this area."

After that everything became better. Slowly our skating got better, and so did Devon's coaching. He was more supportive and didn't yell… well, not so much as before.

Davis and I did end up going to the Junior Nationals and we placed 2nd. It was great. We weren't disappointed because now everything was so much better. The best part… well that would be that I loved to skate once more.


	3. Hope

Hope

I yawned and stretched my arms as my friend drove towards the ice rink with me in the passenger seat trying to get five more minutes of sleep in. It was another early morning practice for our synchronized skating team. I felt Hope's gaze flicker to me.

"Come on Lucy…" she said in that light and airy voice of hers, "I mean I know that it's 4:45 in the morning, but you'll have to be completely awake in five more minutes."

"Well excuse me!" I said in mock anger, sleep still laced my voice, "Not all of us are morning people!"

Hope laughed. She was always the happy, outgoing one on our team. She was always optimistic and knew how to make everyone feel as though they were the only one in the world who was important. She was my best friend. My sister, though not by blood. We had grown up together. Our families had always been very close.

"Oh I know what will wake you up…" she said in a teasing tone, "How was your date with Peter last night?"

I sat up as quickly as I could. I recounted the whole night to her. How Peter and I had gone out for dinner, and then we went horse back riding. It was the best night ever.

The car stopped at a red light, and I continued my story. The light turned green and the car started to move across the intersection.

Suddenly a light shone through the window on the driver's side of the car. A large trunk had run a red light. I let out a short scream of warning. Hope's head snapped to the left just as the truck impacted our car.

Then there was darkness…

When I woke up the first thing I thought of was how bad of a headache I had.

_What happened?_

_I remembered the car…me and Hope talking in the car, and then…Oh God!! A truck hit us!_

My eyes flew open and I sat up as quick as I could…which wasn't a good idea, because the minute I did everything began to fade again.

"LUCY!" I heard five voices yell at the same time. A pair of arms slowly lowered me back to the bed I had been resting on. I opened my eyes to find Peter staring at me with anxious eyes. Turning my head I realized that he wasn't the only person in the room. I saw my mother, my father, my older sister, Emma, and my older brother, Warren.

"Oh, thank goodness." My mother brought her hand down to touch my face gently.

I brushed her hand of quickly. "Mom, where's Hope?"

Her eyes became sadder, and a bad feeling came to the pit of my stomach. "Honey, Hope was on the side that the drunk driver hit. She didn't make it. I mean they weren't sure if you were even going to wake up. You've been asleep for a week."

Tears well up in my eyes as I start to cry. She couldn't be gone! She just couldn't. She was my best friend, my sister. This had to be a dream. I was going to wake up and everything would be ok.

Peter gathered me in his arms and I cried myself to sleep.

When I woke…Hope still wasn't there. Everything was the same.

As the days passed on into weeks, I grew stronger, but the pain didn't diminish. I had had to watch my best friend being buried. I don't think that that type of pain will ever go away.

But I would still visit Hope everyday in the cemetery. I would tell her how my day had been, sing her a new song that was playing on the radio, or read to her from one of her many favorite books.

Eventually I returned to skating practice. Practicing everyday with the synchronized skating team. It just wasn't the same. I didn't want to be there. Peter and my brother and sister said it would be good for me. But my mother just told me that I wasn't the only one who was hurting. So I continued to skate.

Soon another competition for our team was coming up. We were practicing more and more everyday. I could barely find time to visit Hope's grave. But I somehow managed to find a way.

Finally the competition had come. Our team waited nervously to get onto the ice. I had never skated on the team without Hope before, and my stomach was is knots. Suddenly Hope's mom came through the crowd holding Hope's skates.

"Here," she said, "Each of you give these a hug, and it will bring you good luck."

We each took a turn hugging Hope's skates. It felt like she was there with us. We took to the ice, and skated the best program we had ever skated before. Through every move I could feel her there cheering us on.

After skating our program, we waited for the rankings to be announced. I held onto Hope's skates tightly as they announced the teams from fifth place to first.

We won.

As our team took a victory lap around the rink I held Hope's skates up for everyone to see. Teams we had competed against stood and clapped for us. They had heard the story. They felt pity for us but at the same time they were proud. They could never imagine losing one of their own members. They admired us and it gave me the first good feeling I had felt since the accident.

That afternoon I went back to Hope's grave and told her everything that had happened. I know she would have been proud.

Hope may not have been there in person. But she was there within every member of the team. She will always be with me. No matter where I go.

My best friend…My sister…

My guardian angel.


End file.
